A Letter Always Seemed To Me Like

They Might Not Need Me; But They Might. I'll Let My Head Be Just In Sight; A Smile As Small As Mine Might Be Precisely Their Necessity.

My Faith Is Larger Than The Hills— So When The Hills Decay— My Faith Must Take The Purple Wheel To Show The Sun The Way— 'tis First He Steps Upon The Vane— And Then — Upon The Hill— And Then Abroad The World He Go To Do His Golden Will— And If His Yellow Feet Should Miss— The Bird Would Not Arise— The Flowers Would Slumber On Their Stems— No Bells Have Paradise— How Dare I, Therefore, Stint A Faith On Which So Vast Depends— Lest Firmament Should Fail For Me— The Rivet In The Bands

Heart, We Will Forget Him! You And I, To-night! You May Forget The Warmth He Gave, I Will Forget The Light. When You Have Done, Pray Tell Me, That I My Thoughts May Dim; Haste! Lest While You’re Lagging, I May Remember Him!

Apparently With No Surprise To Any Happy Flower The Frost Beheads It At Its Play -- In Accidental Power -- The Blonde Assassin Passes On -- The Sun Proceeds Unmoved To Measure Off Another Day For An Approving God.

Endow The Living - With The Tears - You Squander On The Dead.